Just Two Friends
by DF2222
Summary: Summary: Because in that moment, they are just Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye. Nothing more, and nothing less. Oneshot. Short Drabble. Slight Royai if you squint and read between the lines.


Just Two Normal People

Disclaimer- Fullmetal Alchemist (unfortunately) DOES NOT belong to me. It belongs solely to Hiromu Arakawa.

Something wet trickled down the outside of her throat. Flowing. Warm. The pain was slowly ebbing away. The unbearable pain that had been like a thousand knives plunging into her body. Unrelenting and merciless. The light. It was here for her. She could see the light. Could feel the security. But something- no, someone- was calling her back, anchoring her down, stopping her from going to the light. Someone was shaking her now. Calling her name.

"Riza! Wake up!" The voice was full of agitation, not- she thought, amused- the complacent tone that it typically was had. "Second Lieutenant! Please just open your eyes!" But the light! A little voice in her head was protesting vehemently against the other one. It's so warm. "Open your eyes now! This is an order. No. She couldn't go into the light. But it's so nice. No! She couldn't go against a direct order from the Colonel. No matter how much he slacked on his paperwork. Or how annoying he could be at times. She had promised to follow him many years ago, when they fresh out of Ishval. When they were trying to overcome the horrors of war. When innocence had been destroyed. "Hawkeye! Please, stay with me!"Another shout for her to wake. The light was fading now. Part of her wanted to scream for the light. To get it back. So warm and so safe. She knows that she must stay though.

She forces herself to open her eyes, just barely, but he's immediately noticed. "Lieutenant! Please! Stay awake for just a few more minutes. Remember your promise." She smiled weakly. The numbness has began to dissolve. She feels the cold concrete floor against her bare skin, shivering at the lack of warmth. The pain near her neck is now unbearable. Everything is fuzzy. She can just barely make out his figure sitting next to her in the dim lighting of the room. Her memories start to come back to her. The Taisa. The Colonel. Her Colonel. The memories start flowing back. The battle. Father. Pride. Envy. Bradley.

"You knew." Her voice is hoarse and weak, but he immediately turns to her, eyes full of worry. He stays by her side as she is carried into the ambulance, lying on the bed.

"With that glare you were giving me, I knew that if I performed a human transmutation, you would kill me." His words are joking, but she sees the underlying meaning. By now, they know each other too well. "Besides, you did promise to follow me-"

"Even into hell." She cuts him off and finishes his words, her voice hoarse.

"You should get some rest." He simply states. Closing her eyes, she lets herself fall into the trance-like state.

She opens her eyes to find that she is now in a hospital room. The walls are painted white, like the color of his gloves. He is next to her, still asleep on the chair. Her wounds are bandaged, and the pain is lessening, but it still hurts. She notices that his arm is now in a sling, and there is a bandage on his head. His eyes open at the slight sound of her movement, reminiscence of their days in Ishval when they had to get up at a moment's notice.

"How long was I out?"

"Two days."

"What happened?"

"Father's dead. Alphonse got his body back."

She nods. No more words are exchanged, nor are they necessary. They just sit there, enjoying the silence and peace that they both know will not last.

Because in that moment, they aren't what the world needs them to be. He isn't the cocky, self-satisfied, smirking bastard colonel- as he had been dubbed by the pipsqueak, the infamous womanizer of Central, the Flame Alchemist. She isn't the scary, trigger-happy, stoic lieutenant who watches over the office, daring anyone to take a step out of line, the infamous expert sharpshooter known as the "Hawk's Eye."

In that moment, they are just two ordinary people. Not separated by the corrupt officers in the upper echelons of the military. Not separated by the fraternization laws forbidding military officers to engage together in romantic conduct. Not separated by their ranks- a colonel and a second lieutenant.

At they moment they are just a man and a woman. The same wide-eyed, curious, young boy who had shown up at Berthold Hawkeye's house to learn the secrets of flame alchemy, and the same shy daughter of the famous alchemist whose mother had died, who had, somehow, become friends. The same lieutenant colonel and sniper who had survived through the Ishval War relatively sane, albeit haunted forever with the nightmares of the war.

At that moment, they are just Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye.

A doctor steps into the room, requesting that Mustang go out when he checks on Hawkeye's injuries. He's walking out, when she calls his name. He turns back to look at her.

A glance.

_Thank you._

A nod.

_You're welcome._

He steps out and sits down in a chair, closing his eyes, waiting for her. After all, as she watched over him in Ishval, he will do the same. To them, it isn't Equivalent Exchange. It's merely two friends looking out for each sother.

A/N- Please Read & Review. Flames are reserved for Mustang only...  
This is actually one of the first fanfictions I've written, so please don't be harsh...


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